


Follow Me Down

by coeurvulgaire



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Humor, Changelings, Eluvians, F/M, M/M, Modern Character in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, Slow Build, also Modern Boy in Thedas I guess (it's complicated), some pretty obvious Narnia references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 04:03:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4165047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coeurvulgaire/pseuds/coeurvulgaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sindri and Anya are foster siblings, leaning on each other when there's nowhere else to turn. When they decide to go explore an old factory before it's torn down, something old and buried wakes. They have lost much, and now it is ready to let them return.</p><p>Or, the one where an elven boy remembers and a human girl finally forgets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't planning on writing about DA:I. I meant to just play the game in peace and maybe read a few nice fanfics in my spare time. I definitely didn't intend to start a whole multichapter with a Modern Girl theme. Whoops?
> 
> Flexing my writing muscles and throwing in all the bad humor and weird metaphors I can. Welcome.

”You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

Anya’s eyes glanced over him sharply, brows furrowing and mouth drawing a tight line. She had crossed her arms in front of her chest, muscles taut and spine rigid. She seemed so much taller than she had mere minutes ago, which in the name of everything logical and reasonable should have been impossible for such a tiny person - a skill that Sindri considered completely unfair. He bit his lip and huffed under his breath, unable to meet her eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. He felt like a child being scolded after coming home late or breaking a window, not a grown man - well, a 22-year-old grown man - who had just presented his sister with the best idea he’d had in ages, perhaps ever.

”You don’t have to be so judgmental,” he whined, pursing his lips and widening his eyes, trying to get them to look as glazed and big as possible. ”I thought it would be fun. Like a memory lane.”

Clearly unimpressed by his attempts at garnering sympathy, Anya cocked her eyebrow and gave him a knowing look. ”You thought you could get me to drive you there so you could find that damn humming thing again. And probably steal some stuff in the process. I’m just a convenient getaway car.”

Sindri gasped incredulously and lifted his hand to his mouth, bringing every bit of hurt and shock he could muster on his face. ”How dare you! I also wanted to see one of the most important places of our childhood before it gets torn down! I had my first kiss in that building, you know. And besides, it’s not _stealing_ if no one actually uses the stuff anymore.”

”So will it be up to me to tell that to the police officer who drags us out of the _closed_ and _locked_ factory area that has _several warning signs and electrical fences around it_?”

”Oh, like that’s going to happen,” he snorted and waved his hand around lazily. ”I know you still remember how to get inside and out without triggering any alarm. You don’t fool me, An. You can wear as many high heels and pencil skirts as you want —”

”I have a shaved head and seven piercings, Sindri.”

”— But I still remember who you used to be. And, okay, I don’t think anyone really wants you to go back to the An you were, but this time I could use just a little bit of her. A little bit. Not a lot. You know, just the talent for breaking and entering and fooling possible guards. Which there probably will be.”

”Because you’re asking me to break into a highly supervised and protected building complex. No one we know has set foot in there in _years_ , and for a good fucking reason. Remember Jake? He broke in alone, tried to loot the eastern wing, and they caught him. He’s not going to step outside prison walls in at least four more years. You really want us to join him? Have a happy little reunion while the biker gang decides which one of us to pass around first? You know you’d lose that contest.”

”Yeah, yeah, but you said it yourself — Jake was on his own. I’ve got you! We’re great when we break the law together! And also, realistically, we probably wouldn’t be in the same prison. And the inmates are much more likely to be some robbers and financial criminals. Not to mention you’d probably be running that place in a week anyway. Come _on_ , An, please? Do this for me? Just this once? I swear I’ll repay you somehow! I’ll wash the dishes for a month! I’ll rub your feet and arrange all of your sheet music! In alphabetical order! _Please_?”

Anya gave a deep, tired sigh and shut her eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. After a few moments she lowered her hand and opened her eyes, fixing a pointed stare on her brother again. He knew that look, the sharpness and the seriousness of it, and tried not to show exactly how many quietly terrified shivers it sent down his spine. Instead he smiled sheepishly, blinking back at her with what he hoped was an innocent, happy and puppy-like expression.

”Fine,” she eventually rumbled. He cheered, a wide, unabashed grin spreading on his face, and she rolled her eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

”This will be _awesome_ ,” Sindri said, shaking his sister’s shoulders, excitement making his voice rise. ”You’re not going to regret this, I promise.”

* * *

”I already regret this,” Anya said darkly, glancing over her shoulder at the tall, ominous fence they had just passed. Her brother hadn’t been wrong - she still remembered exactly how to get in, the specific spot on the northern side of the perimeter where the electrified barriers no longer functioned. Many years ago she would have felt triumphant, so very smug at the idea that she could do this. There would have been a wild smile on her face, one matching her brother’s, and her hawk-like eyes would have already been searching for the first thing to take, the first door to open.

Now she just frowned and grabbed Sindri’s shoulder when he took a quick, careless step forward. ”Don’t,” she hissed, manicured nails biting into his clothes and leaving crescent marks in the fabric. ”You’ll trigger the alarm. Come on, we’ll move in through the southwestern doors. The guards can’t see them well.”

”See, this is why I wanted you here,” Sindri said, following her and trying to match her pace. Anya had always moved quietly, appearing and disappearing like a ghost, soft footsteps only barely reaching his ears. Sindri was loud when he walked, both in sound and movement, his hands flailing around and voice rising high in the air. He was fast, though; no one could outrun him, not the guards or his friends or the boys who used to grab his hair and push his face into the rough sand, laughter banging against the walls. Sindri would run from them all.

They moved as silently as possible, Anya more so than him. She seemed to almost melt into the shadows, pulling him along when he stalled. It was difficult not to stop in his tracks, crane his neck backwards and stare at the huge buildings rising around them, drawing grim silhouettes against the night sky. It was almost two in the morning and the air around them was cool but heavy, dragging on their skin and caressing their hair. Looking up revealed only dark clouds — no stars in London, especially in the old industrial areas, the places where fumes and suffocating smoke had spread across the skies. It felt like home, the backdrop of a jagged childhood, but something about it was strangely distant. So _final_ , in a way Sindri couldn’t entirely comprehend.

He didn’t know what the factory and its many structures, all dark brown tile and broken windows, had once been. It had been closed for years when he’d first come to the city, and hadn’t cared enough to ask anyone who could have known. He’d heard the name Kirke be mentioned once or twice, and assumed it had been the name of the company. The factory was empty, but not abandoned — one of the reasons they’d been so interested in it as teenagers had been the secrecy of it. Constantly supervised and viciously guarded, the factory was nothing short of a fortress. Whoever owned the place _really_ didn’t want anyone trespassing on their grounds, and that made it even more intriguing.

The intrigue wasn’t the reason they were there, though.

The papers had announced the factory’s decimation exactly a week earlier. No one knew when it was going to happen, but the closest estimate had been ’in about six months’. Most people didn’t care. The factory wasn’t pretty enough to be a landmark, but it wasn’t an eyesore, either. No one had real ties to it - except for the few kids who had explored it in their youth. Anya had always been the only one who knew how to get in. Sindri still hadn’t figured it out - he knew about the blind spot in the fence’s electricity, but even that blindness was only partial. How Anya disabled it all, he had no idea. She had still agreed to let him and their friends in, though - provided that they didn’t draw attention from the guards. There had been something wild and uncontrolled in the way she laughed and smiled, in the gaze she gave to the area once they’d climbed over the fence. Sindri never feared his sister, but he had always known that others did - and in those moments he had finally learned why. That had been a long, long time ago.

It took only a few minutes to get through the main doors. The siblings still worked as effortlessly as they once had, wordlessly helping each other pick the locks. As the last one let out an audible click they pulled the doors open as slowly as possible, trying to stop the metal hinges from creaking too loudly. Sindri couldn’t help smirking at the look of focus on Anya’s face, the small upturn at the edges of her lips; the slight frown that seemed to have settled itself permanently between her brows had briefly vanished, and it had been replaced by a patch of smooth skin. He grabbed her hand and dragged her along, allowing the doors to fall shut with a soft groan.

They stood in a long, dark corridor. Sindri was certain he had walked through it once, perhaps while going through some of the untouched rooms, or maybe that one time he and Ricky from two streets over had gotten drunk in a watchtower. This place had his fingerprints on it, so familiar and full to the brim with hazy memories from a time long past. He spread his arms wide, like wings he’d never grown, and spun himself around, one, two, three rounds. He threw his head back and let the strands of hair that had gotten into his eyes settle back into their place, dark red and too long already, almost touching his shoulders.

Anya’s laughter was a bright ring in his ears. Her voice was normally deep, almost husky, finding sharpness in places his own never did. Not now. He opened his eyes, greeting her with a warm and lazy grin. She tugged on his sleeve, smile still flickering across her face, and nodded towards a closed door on their right. The corridor itself was solemn - just a long, empty passage, some dust and stray tiles lying on the floor. But the doors still held promise of something new, something they hadn’t seen.

”Want to go?” she asked, already knowing the answer. His brother didn’t bother using words, simply marching over to the closest door and trying its handle before pushing it open.

Somewhere in the distance a soft hum was dancing in the air.

* * *

It wasn’t as magical as fairytales would have claimed. They didn’t find any hidden treasure troves or secret doors behind book shelves. There wasn’t a room made of gold or some age-old mystery they accidentally uncovered. Most of these places were ones they had seen many times before, but that made them special - the initials Sindri had carved into a wooden desk in one of the abandoned offices were still there, as was the bracelet one of Anya’s boyfriends had dropped when she’d brought him along. She giggled at the sight, but when Sindri offered it to her, she shook her head.

”Nah,” she shrugged, tilting her head. ”Leave it here. Dave was a dick anyway. Let that memory be destroyed with this place.”

”That bad, huh?” Sindri asked, doing as she said and dropping the bracelet back where he’d picked it up. It was a simple thing made of leather, with some beads hanging on it. Their original color had faded, and now they were just different shades of light brown. For some reason Sindri was certain they’d once been red and blue, but he wasn’t sure if the thought came from a real memory or just something he’d conjured up.

”He dumped me with a note at school,” Anya snorted. ”I mean, a _note_. Who does that? Hey, thanks for the love and care, here’s a shitty apology with seventeen spelling errors and lines to an Eminem song? Please.”

”Fuck Dave,” Sindri said and kicked the bracelet absently.

”Indeed,” Anya huffed.

They walked quietly through the offices, commenting and laughing at the things they found. Wherever the guards were, they clearly hadn’t noticed two trespassers on the grounds. It wasn’t until they reached one of the first worker floors of the factory that their voices died out - pushing open another door didn’t take them to a supply closet or a locker room, but a large hall with a ceiling so high that it reached the roof of the entire building. No one knew what the factory had manufactured; all machinery had been taken away when the place was first closed, and now all that was left was an even series of light, square-shaped patches on the floor where they had once been. The huge, deserted space made them come to a halt. It was dark, but the moonlight threw long stripes on their feet, revealing the specks of dust that were slowly floating around them.

Something cold stirred in Sindri’s stomach. He wasn’t sure why. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, shivers making their way down his spine. Suddenly the silence felt deeper, _stronger_ than it had moments before; it was like diving into a pool of crystal clear water, so transparent it didn’t feel like it existed at all. And then, underneath the almost thundering nothingness, was something peaceful and enthralling. An echo of a whistle, a hum so low it almost disappeared into the silence, leaving behind only slight traces of a melody. It was hushed, it was obscure, and it was _beautiful_.

”Sindri?” Anya whispered, her voice back to its deeper tones. She turned to look at her brother, at the way his eyes stopped tracking movement, pupils like reflecting glass. Whatever remnants of joy had been coursing through her dissolved, leaving behind only wavering flames of worry. She knew something wasn’t right. The inherent feeling of wrong hung in the air and weighed on her shoulders, making the way her brother seemed to be losing himself even more apparent. She repeated his name, faintly hoping it would pull him back to the present. ”Sindri? Are you okay?”

”Can you hear that?” the red-haired boy said, his voice little more than a sleepy sigh. It did nothing to reassure his sister, who took a step closer, frown returning to her features. Sindri didn’t seem to know whether his eyes were open or closed anymore, and it didn’t seem to matter to him, either.

”Hear what?” Anya said, reaching out tentatively and grasping her brother’s shoulder, trying to turn him towards her. She’d expected him to be stone still, but he moved with surprising ease, molding in her hands like a rag doll. She released her grip, but kept her gaze fixed in his, trying to look for something to hold onto. She didn’t find it. Anya tried to listen, but only met a deep silence. ”Sindri, it’s completely quiet. There’s no sound.”

He never answered. Without a warning he turned around and took a step forward, walking through the factory floor unhurriedly. Anya’s first instinct was to grab and stop him, push him out of the building by force if she had to - but she didn’t. Instead she took a look at her surroundings, trying to make out any noise she might have missed, and then followed her brother closely, ready to bury her hand in the back of his jacket and pull him backwards if needed.

Sindri’s steps were slow, but not aimless. He led them out of the hall and into another corridor, somewhat cleaner than the ones they’d seen before. Someone had obviously taken care of it, swept the floors and replaced the broken windows, the bare minimum to make it look livable. That wasn’t reassuring, and Anya could feel her muscles tense up at the thought. It meant that people - guards - walked through this place often enough to care about stepping on pieces of tile and glass. She tried to match her pace with her brother’s, and grabbed him again, fingers curling around his arm. Sindri kept walking for a moment despite the force pulling him in another direction, but eventually stopped, turning to face Anya with dreamy eyes that seemed to see right through her.

 _( His breath came out in heavy puffs, becoming steam when it made contact with the winter air._  
_”I wanted to find the thing that hums,” he said._  
_The lack of light in his eyes, the coldness of his fingers. Her voice trembled when she spoke and the corners of her eyes burned. She begged, she made him promise. Never again. She wouldn’t let him in there until the day she died. He nodded, but he was still listening. He was always listening when they came there_. )

”You’re scaring me,” Anya said quietly. She didn’t squeeze - holding was one thing, hurting another. ”Just tell me where you’re going.”

It took another moment for him to answer. ”To the lights,” he said, a faint smile toying with his lips. ”Can’t you hear them?”

”I can’t hear anything. Sindri, you’re— not well, okay, we need to get out of here. Did you take something? Shit, I know this is a really bad line, I think I spat in Mrs. Moore’s face when she said it to me, but I won’t be mad, just tell me what you took. I still have Levi’s number, he can patch you up, we don’t have to go to a hospital, just _tell me_ —”

”You sound like thunder,” Sindri mused, and turned back to the direction he’d been heading towards. ”Only with me. You’re shaking. You wouldn’t be talking this much if I was someone else.”

”Of _course_ I wouldn’t, you’re my fucking brother, now just—”

Anya never got to finish her sentence. She wasn’t sure when she’d stopped speaking with the carefully low tone, each syllable as quiet as possible - but now she’d begun shouting, her voice rising high and echoing against the walls. When the high-pitched alarm started ringing, reacting to either the increased sound or hasty movement, she jumped and cursed aloud, tightening her hold on Sindri. ”Shit,” she mumbled, and by the time she heard a _clank_ at the end of the corridor and the yelp of a security guard, she’d started running. Normally it would have felt easy, exhilarating even, but the weight of an absent Sindri both made her slower and increasingly worried. He was faster than her, always had been. He didn’t slow her down, and he certainly didn’t have to be _dragged_ away from a fuming guard.

Anya turned a corner, ending up in a hallway she hadn’t seen before. It was the same direction Sindri had been trying to reach, but he didn’t seem to recognize it. When she’d reached only the halfway of the corridor before the guard could see them again, yelling after them, realization hit her.

They wouldn’t be able to run. They were too slow, lost in a building they only vaguely remembered. The guard would catch them, and the thought of what would happen next made something twist and turn in Anya’s stomach. They weren’t reckless teenagers anymore, free and bitter with nothing to lose. They had schools, lives, tangible things around them. The world had shifted when they weren’t looking, become something different than it had been.

Anya was not willing to let everything she’d worked so hard to build, sacrificed so much for, shed so many layers of skin and bone to support hang even in the slightest balance.

Another corner. On their immediate left was a door, slightly ajar, inviting and promising. If Anya had had a moment more to think, even a few seconds to process it, she would have known. Not all predators wore bright colors.

She threw the door open and rushed in, thrusting Sindri ahead of her. She slammed the door shut, pushing the first object her hands could reach - a wobbly wooden chair, left to be destroyed with everything else - to block the lock from being opened. It was a temporary comfort, perhaps capable of lasting for less than a minute, but it was something.

When she turned to her brother, her breath caught in her throat.

They weren’t in an office or a supply closet. This was a room, windowless and silent. It wasn’t dark, however - a soft light covered every inch of the floor and the walls, leaving behind no shadows. Sindri was standing on the other end of the space, posture calm and relaxed, one hand reaching forward. But it wasn’t him that made her stop in her tracks. It was what he was trying to touch - huge, foreign, beautiful, impossible. A mirror so tall it barely fit in the room, its frames sleek and dark under the light. And the reflection. The _reflection_.

She would have expected to see herself, her brother and the slack-jawed expressions that now certainly graced both of their faces. She saw nothing. At first she thought she was looking at a confusing painting, but paintings didn’t move. And whatever this reflection was or showed, it moved, like the disturbed surface of a deep lake. She saw colors, hues of gold, green and purple, and flickers of something she couldn’t place or recognize. The soft light in the room wasn’t truly light at all - it was a soft glow, emanating from the mirror itself. It was like nothing she had ever seen, and for a moment she forgot the fear, the anxiety, the knowledge of a dead end that was waiting in the back of her head.

Without initially registering it herself, Anya took a step forward. And another. And another, until she was stood next to Sindri, still quiet and placid.

”I found it,” he whispered, and all she could do was nod.

”I know,” she said. She did.

Loud footsteps in the corridor. Banging on the door she had hastily blocked.

Sindri’s fingertips touched the surface of the mirror. A blinding rush of light, a low sound that seemed to suddenly grow. The hum. She took a shivering breath and let her hand curl around her brother’s. Nowhere to run.

”Come with me,” he said, taking a step forward. She took it with him.


End file.
